iAsk Freddie
by lifeisveryshortsoami
Summary: "Did you like it?" "Did I like what? Your face the first time I saw it?" "The kiss." The world lapsed into the loudest silence Freddie had ever heard. For the 'What If' Challenge.


I know this story seems short and rushed compared to my regular stories and I am so, so sorry if anyone is out of character! I needed to finish by the time this 'What If' challenge ended and there's been a lot going on with me lately so...Please forever me if this story sucks.

In other news, this story was written to go along with iSpeed Date. What if Carly told Sam to ask Freddie to the Girl's Choice dance instead of Freddie? What if Freddie said yes? What if they went back to the fire escape that night?

Oh, and since this is part of a contest TheWrtrInMe is putting together, a poll is on their profile where you can vote for one (and only one) of the stories entered in the 'What If' challenge. So, if you would like my story to win, vote for iAsk Freddie by lifeisveryshortsoami.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p><strong>iAsk Freddie <strong>

It wasn't fair. Sam only tied Carly up and placed duct tape over her mouth because she was trying to help her best friend get a date for the Girl's Choice Dance. Carly should have thanked her (how many times did Samantha Puckett think of someone besides herself?), but instead, Carly wanted to get revenge.

"If I have to go to the dance with some guy I don't even know, then you have to ask Freddie," she demanded.

Sam stood there, her mouth hanging open.

"You can't be serious, Carls," she said. "He already has two girls who have asked him. Why can't I ask Gibby or somebody else who has no hope of finding a date?"

Yes, Sam was actually begging Carly to change her mind. Gibby, the shirtless wonder of a boy, would be better company than Freddie any day. ANYBODY would be better than Freddie. The last thing Sam wanted to do was waste the night with the biggest nub in all of Seattle.

"Gibby is sweet and I do feel bad for him," Carly consented, and for a brief moment, Sam thought she had won the fight. "But the girls who have asked Freddie are kind of…you know…weird. He deserves to go with someone he could actually have fun with."

"What makes you think he would have fun with me?" Sam wanted to know. "I hate him!"

"Come on, Sam. I know you don't really hate him. Freddie is just as much your friend as he is mine." Carly paused briefly. "Besides…I think it would be good for the two of you if you went together. You could try being nice for once and make up for all the years of abuse."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed. "Like that will happen!"

"Fine. If you won't even try asking Freddie to the dance, then I'm not going through with your little plan," Carly threatened. "You can tell every guy who shows up to your 'Win a Date With Carly' contest that Carly isn't going out with any of them."

Sam was beginning to regret her decision to help Carly out. This was her reward for trying to be a nice person?

"Fine," she relented. "I'll ask Fredward if he'll go to the dance with me."

"Yay!"

Carly's arms were wrapped around Sam's neck. The blonde could barely get enough air into her lungs to speak.

"He's going to say no," she stated firmly. "There's no way he'll want to spend an entire evening with me."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Carly protested, ending the hug in order to smirk at her best friend. "You never know what might happen."

"Right," Sam said, too bored with the conversation to argue it any further. "Do you have any ham?"

She would ask Freddie to the dance if it made Carly happy. It wasn't like he would say yes anyway. He hated her and she hated him. Just because they kissed one time on the Benson's fire escape didn't mean anything had changed between them. She was still Sam and he was still Freddie, the two people who were only friends in the first place because of Carly.

There was no way Fredward Benson would say yes to Samantha Puckett.

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><p>"Yes?"<p>

The word sounded foreign to Sam as she repeated it. She had just asked Freddie to the dance, just as Carly wanted her to do. Something was wrong though. When she played the scene in her head to practice (not that she really needed to practice since she was only asking Freddie, not the hottest guy in school), his answer was always a very firm refusal. Why was the real Freddie saying something else?

Ridgeway students bustled by on their way to class, paying no attention to the conversation taking place in the hallway between Sam and Freddie. How could they pass by so carelessly when Sam's world was coming to a horrific end?

"Hey, you ruined any chance I had of Carly asking me to the dance," Freddie explained, shrugging in response to Sam's shocked face. "She may have gotten desperate enough to ask me at the last minute, but now she can't because she'll have to go with one of the guys from your contest. You owe me, Puckett."

"But - But-,"

Sam couldn't think of anything else to say. She never thought in a million trillion years that Freddie would actually say yes to her invitation. Had he hit his head or something? Did he think she was Carly in disguise?

"There's no reason to act so nervous, Sam," Freddie said, a devious smile overtaking his face. "I won't tell anyone you lied about Carly forcing you to ask me to the dance."

He was treading on dangerous ground. Sam felt her fingers curl into her palm and she fought the urge to punch Freddie right in his gut.

"Your secret is safe with me," the camera-geek continued as though he had no idea how close Sam was to hurting him. "I know you really asked me to the dance because you've fallen in love with me."

Freddie got exactly what he deserved for suggesting something so juvenile: a football shoved into a place no man ever wanted a football to rest.

There was a smirk on Sam's face as she walked away, the moans emitting from Freddie's mouth echoing behind her. Revenge was sweet.

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><p>The plan was simple: Sam would spend the day at Carly's apartment, enduring the torturous hours by getting ready for a dance she didn't even want to attend. Freddie and Austin, Carly's date, would pick the girls up at exactly 7:30.<p>

As much as Freddie didn't want to admit it, he was looking forward to the dance. He and Sam rarely got along - it was a miracle if they could last five minutes without trying to kill each other - but for some unfathomable reason, he considered the blonde one of his best friends. They had been through a lot since the year they met and even if she was pushy and aggressive, Freddie had come to terms with it. He didn't begrudge Sam for the snappy remarks or punches she threw at him. Over the years, he realized something: that was just who Samantha Puckett was. It wasn't like she deliberately treated him horribly; it was in her blood. She couldn't help the way she acted.

And, quite frankly, Freddie wouldn't want her any other way. Like he told Sam once, it would be too weird if she wasn't picking on him all the time. He no longer found her trickery rude or disrespectful. He accepted it as part of their friendship. She would do something mean, he retaliated, and she thought of something even worse to do. It was a never-ending cycle.

His watch warned him it was only 7:15 when Freddie found his fist pounding on the Shay's door. He had no idea why he didn't just wait the extra fifteen minutes. Was he really that excited about going to the dance or were his nerves getting to him? Technically, he didn't know what Sam had in store for him. Did she plan on trying to enjoy the evening or was she going to ruin both of their nights?

"Oh, hey, Freddie!" Carly greeted as she opened the door to her loft, motioning for him to follow him inside. "You're just in time. Sam and I were just finishing up."

"Just finishing what up?" Freddie asked, his eyes landing on the kitchen table, which was covered in various foods. "Consuming everything edible in this apartment?"

"Sam wanted a snack before we started getting ready this afternoon. I haven't had a chance to clean up yet," Carly explained.

"Ah," Freddie nodded. Yeah…he could see Sam leaving a mess for someone else to take care of. "Speaking of the blonde headed demon, where is she?"

"She's upstairs. She claims the dress I picked out for her is a disgrace to girls everywhere because of how utterly 'girly' it is." Carly rolled her eyes. "I'll see if I can get her to come down."

However, when Carly shouted up the staircase that Freddie had arrived and it was nearly time to go, Sam's reply was anything but kind.

"Leave without me! I'm not going anywhere looking like this!"

"You look fine, Sam!"

"I look like a daffodil!"

"You get down here right now Samantha Puckett! Don't make me come up there!"

Sam did as she was told-

-And Freddie's heart stopped beating the moment she came into his sight.

Since the dance was only semi-formal, Sam, just like Carly, was wearing a skirt. The difference was that even though Carly looked great in her outfit, Sam looked AMAZING in hers. She wore a black skirt with a sparkly purple top that fit her figure perfectly.

Freddie stared down at his own choice in clothing. He had thought his tux was fine when he left his bedroom. Sure, the sleeves were a little long and there was a tiny hole in his pants, but it was nothing too noticeable.

Sam's outfit put his to shame.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, smirking as she noticed Freddie's reaction. "Nub got your tongue?"

"Hey!" Carly stepped between her two best friends, her finger pointing warningly at Sam. "You're supposed to be nice tonight. And you-," She twirled to face Freddie, "-Are not to say anything that will tempt Sam to hurt you."

"I was being nice!" Sam argued at the same time Freddie said, "I never say anything to tempt her. She's just naturally vicious!"

Carly opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was quickly got forgotten when Austin knocked on the door. Spencer rushed out from his room the moment he heard a male voice he didn't recognize. Sam took advantage of everyone turning their attention to the newcomer and slapped the back of Freddie's head.

"Ow!" Freddie exclaimed, his hand flying out to cover the injury. "What was that for? I thought you were going to be nice to me tonight!"

"That _was_ nice!" Sam informed him. "I didn't hit you hard enough to make you fall, did I?"

There was a scowl on Freddie's face as the four teens headed out of Bushwell Plaza. Maybe this dance wasn't going to be as much fun as he'd originally thought.

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><p>The music was way too loud. Couples danced exotically, covering every inch of the dance floor. The number of people making-out exceeded the entire population of Canada.<p>

And there, in the middle of everything, two silent people sat at one table, both feeling extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation.

"So…" Sam stated, trying her best to break through the wave of awkwardness.

"So…" Freddie echoed. Then, he took what was perhaps the biggest chance he had ever taken: "Do you want to go somewhere?"

Sam turned to stare at him, her blue eyes meeting his. Freddie began fidgeting. Why did he ask Sam if she wanted to go somewhere? Did he want her to kill him? She didn't even want to be at the dance with him…why would she want to be anywhere he was? She hated him and-

"Sure."

By the time Freddie realized Sam's answer wasn't the rejection he was expecting, the blonde had already climbed to her feet. She towered over him menacingly, giving him a look that clearly said, 'Well?'

Carly and Austin were off somewhere in the crowd, which meant unless Sam and Freddie wanted to spend the next half hour sifting through bodies to find their best friend, they would have to leave her behind. Freddie wasn't sure how he felt about that. Did he really want to be alone with the girl who constantly inflicted him with pain?

In the end, Freddie didn't have much of a choice. Sam grabbed his wrist and dragged him along behind her. He allowed her to continue leading the way even when they were out of the sweaty building.

Somehow, he knew exactly where she was heading.

* * *

><p>Marissa Benson was working the night shift. The apartment was dark when Freddie unlocked the door and stood aside, letting Sam walk ahead of him. She did just that, finding his fridge easily even before Freddie flipped the light switch. With her hands full of Peppy Cola and other various sweets, Sam made her way to the window.<p>

The fire escape was a much nicer atmosphere than the dance had been. There was breathable air instead of the heavy scent of body odor. No couples performed X-rated dance moves. And then there was the best difference of all: Peppy Cola to drink instead of spiked punch.

It seemed like the more refreshments she consumed, the more Sam put away the nervousness she had felt when surrounded by her peers at the dance. When she was around other people, she couldn't chance dancing with Freddie. What if someone saw them together? What if someone thought they liked each other?

However, when it was just the two of them and no witnesses, Sam had no reason not to act like herself. She didn't have to worry about some psycho telling her that she and Freddie were really meant to be and they were certain of that because of the way the two of them stared longingly at each other while sharing a dance. She and Freddie knew they hated each other. They had nothing to hide.

"No way," Freddie said after Sam finished telling him another story about her mom. "There's no way that really happened."

"It's true chiz!" Sam argued. "I know it's impossible for a lot of women to date five men at once, but my mom pulled it off. It just goes to show you how strong we Puckett's are."

"Yeah, like I didn't already know how strong you are," Freddie scoffed. "There aren't a lot of girls who could break my bones as easily as you could."

"Anyone could break your bones, Freddie. They crack like they're made of very thin glass."

Freddie could have retaliated, but the night was too perfect to start a fight. He shook his head, letting Sam's remark bounce off, and turned his attention to the sky. Hmm. He hadn't noticed there was a full moon.

"Thinking about how pretty the moon is, Benson?" Sam interrupted his thoughts. "You're not going to get all girly on me and tell me how romantic it is out here, are you?"

"Sam…Can I ask you something?" Without waiting for a response, Freddie turned to the blonde. "Did you like it?"

"Did I like what? Your face the first time I saw it?"

"The kiss."

The world lapsed into the loudest silence Freddie had ever heard.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, deciding it was better to say it now than after Sam left a bruise on his arm. "It's just…I've been curious since Carly asked us if we liked it and then we got interrupted before either of us could answer and I…I know we haven't talked about it since it happened, other than that time Carly found out and you tried to murder me for accidentally telling her when it was really your fault, and then you randomly decide to ask me to the dance-,"

"That wasn't my decision," Sam corrected. "Carly made me ask you."

"Well, Carly may have made you ask me, but she didn't make you go tonight instead of staying home and pretending to be sick," Freddie conceded. "I'm not saying I liked the kiss or anything - we were just doing it to get it over with, right? - but I should know whether or not I'm a bad kisser, just for future reference, shouldn't I? And if we both liked it - which I'm not saying we did - would it really be wrong to admit it? Nothing would have to change between us but we could at least address our feelings - if we have any real feelings for each other besides hatred, that is - and just…I don't know. I guess I just want to know if you hated the kiss or enjoyed it even the tiniest bit or…"

Sam wasn't good with words (and judging by Freddie's spiel, neither was he). She hated talking about feelings and who she did or didn't have a crush on, even when Carly was the one asking. Puckett's were good at building walls to hide their feelings behind. Knocking those walls down to let the feelings out again…Yeah, that part Puckett's weren't so good at.

Freddie wanted to know how she felt about the kiss. Obviously, he wasn't going to shut up until Sam answered him. How could she do so without having to speak?

She thought of the best solution she could: she placed a hand on either of Freddie's shoulders, pulled him closer to her, and pressed their lips together.

"Does that answer your question?" she asked when she finally pulled away much more than eight seconds later.

Freddie's jaw dropped. He was trying to overcome his shock and say something, anything at all, when-

"Where are you, Puckett?" Carly's voice screamed through the night. "Because of you, I just had the worst date of my entire life!"

Without uttering another word, Sam headed back through the window to meet up with Carly. Freddie could their voices arguing several moments later, but he was too stunned to join them and resolve the fight.

Sam had kissed him.

Samantha Puckett kissed him, Fredward Benson.

For the second time, Sam had kissed him.

Maybe Sam's stupid idea to find Carly a date hadn't been so dumb after all. If she never would have gone through with it, Carly wouldn't have gotten upset and demanded Sam ask Freddie to the dance. If Sam had never asked him to the dance, there was no way Freddie would have brought her to the fire escape. If he hadn't taken her to the fire escape, he never would have gotten the courage to ask if she liked their first kiss. If he never got the courage to ask, she never would have kissed him.

"Huh," Freddie muttered, resting his head against the cool glass of the window. "I guess this fire escape is luckier than I thought."

Whether his fire escape was lucky or not, Freddie knew one thing for sure: the moment Carly told Sam to ask him to the dance was probably the greatest moment of his life.

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><p>Once again, I really am sorry if this sucked!<p>

Review anyway and let me know what you thought? Please?

Oh, and don't forget to vote for iAsk Freddie by visiting the poll on TheWrtrInMe 's profile.

Thanks!


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